The Gift of Hope
by Coreinha
Summary: Gilraen suvives an orc attack, bringing Estel to Rivendell. Mortally wounded, she falls at the gates. These are her last thoughts. You'd better have some kleenex on hand!


The Gift of Hope  
  
By Cathy (XsilicaX) and Corienha  
Disclaimer: We do not own any of this; it belongs to Tolkien. This is  
  
just for fun, no harm intended. We're not making any money off it.  
  
A/N: These events take place after the group of Rangers that Gilraen  
  
and Arathorn travelled with was attacked. Gilraen survived, though  
  
she was mortally wounded, and made for Rivendell, to leave her infant  
  
son with Elrond for protection. These are her last thoughts.  
  
Thoughts are in `single quotations'  
  
Speech is in "double quotations"  
  
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~  
  
The Gift of Hope  
  
Gilraen leaned against the cool stone of Rivendell, sinking slowly to  
  
the ground. Here at last, she thought, breath hitching. She glanced  
  
down at the precious bundle in her arms, hugging him closer. He still  
  
slept.  
  
Her breath frosted in the chill air of the morn, yet she did not feel  
  
the cold. Her body burned with fever; wounds left untreated had  
  
become infected. It is a good thing, she thought, the heat will keep  
  
my babe warm.  
  
Turning back a corner of the blanket, she peered inside at the  
  
sleeping bundle. Long eyelashes lay dark against his chubby cheeks,  
  
his tiny thumb tucked inside his mouth, for comfort. Bending over  
  
him, she placed a feather-light kiss on his forehead, squeezing her  
  
eyes tight against the pain of leaving him. When she reopened them,  
  
she saw that a drop of her blood stained his cheek. Quickly, she  
  
brushed it away, savouring the silky feel of his skin, the lines of  
  
his face. Staring down at him one last time, she memorised every mark  
  
of his sweet face before tugging the blanket up, covering him again,  
  
to protect him from the chill in the air.  
  
`Oh my son' she thought, `I pray that you need never face such dark  
  
times, that this may be the only blood spilled for you; though I fear  
  
that is not your fate.'  
  
She lay there, propped against the wall, watching as her life's blood  
  
dripped slowly to the ground, her last thoughts a prayer for him.  
  
`I pray for you, my little child, that the sun will always shine, and  
  
you will always know love. I pray that your nights will be warm and  
  
safe, and your days full of cheer and laughter.  
  
`I pray that you will be raised by parents who love you as their own,  
  
who would gladly lay down their lives to make yours the slightest bit  
  
less painful. A family who can love you as much as ever I and  
  
Arathorn have.  
  
`I pray that you will be granted siblings, who will bring you  
  
mischief and games, and teach you who you are. Brothers who will  
  
become your steadfast companions, and be there for you in times of  
  
greatest need.  
  
`I pray that Illuvatar will smile upon you, and grant you friends  
  
that fill your heart with warmth and laughter, who would sacrifice  
  
anything to preserve your innocence, and try to protect you from the  
  
darkness in the world.  
  
`I pray that you will find a wife, as beautiful as the moon and  
  
stars, with a heart as warm as the sun, and a smile as wide as the  
  
sky; and that she will love you as though you were the only man on  
  
earth.  
  
`And, oh my son, I pray that somehow, you will know how very much I  
  
love you; that you never, for an instant, believe that I leave you by  
  
choice. I love you more than I ever believed possible. I did not know  
  
that anyone could feel something this big for someone so small!  
  
`I know your future is uncertain, with great responsibility and many  
  
trials ahead. Isildur's Heir! Oh, would that I could remove the curse  
  
of your ancestors. I would take that burden from you if I could, but  
  
I cannot; it is yours to bear. Yours alone. I only pray that you will  
  
have company in your troubles.  
  
`My precious, precious child', she sobbed, face awash with tears, `my  
  
time grows short, each breath is a fire burning in my chest, but I  
  
will not give up this struggle so easily. I am afraid, not just for  
  
me, but for you. I want to be here to care for you, to protect you,  
  
to make sure your life is happy, and you are safe.  
  
"Oh, Illuvatar please!" she raised her head up to the skies in  
  
anguish, `Care for him, for I cannot. Arathorn calls me even now, and  
  
I am not far from leaving this world.'  
  
She lowered her head and peered through fading vision as she saw a  
  
figure approaching. "Who is that coming towards us, my little one?  
  
Will he be the one who saves you, who raises you? Will he love you? I  
  
pray so, for the night grows dim now."  
  
"I love you my son. Please know I did everything in my power to  
  
protect you. I will give you into another's keeping now."  
  
"Onen I-Estel, ú-chebin estel anim" //I gave Hope to the Dúnedain, I  
  
have kept no hope for myself//  
  
The tall figure stooped down over the resting pair, concern in his  
  
warm grey eyes, fading to grief as the light died in Gilrean's eyes.  
  
Breath sighed from him as he leaned forward, softly closing her eyes,  
  
as she entered eternal sleep. Gently, he removed the bundle that she  
  
held close to her, even in death, and lifted him into strong,  
  
comforting arms.  
  
Gilrean's spirit stood over them, smiling to herself as she saw the  
  
care with which the elf handled her child. She had found one who  
  
would be everything to him, as she could not. Stepping close to  
  
Arathorn, he put an arm around her shoulders, and together they bent  
  
over their sleeping boy, and kissed him one last time before fading  
  
away.  
  
Be safe, and loved, my son.  
  
My Aragorn.  
  
I am with you always. 


End file.
